A tiny bit of raw yeast dough should not be a problem. The normal stomach acids will kill any yeast. However, a large amount (as a guess, let's say a chunk any bigger than an egg) can be, especially if you have a kid who will swallow big lumps nearly whole. A large ball of dough is dense enough that the stomach acids can't reach to the middle of it. And if you do yeast baking, you know what happens when yeast is in a nice warm place -- it doubles and expands. A large ball of indigestible bread dough expanding in your stomach is not a comfortable thing...

(Many years ago, in the very early days of 911, there was an American TV program called Emergency. It drew in part from real-life stories of things that emergency responders had handled. One was a call from a woman whose teenage son had eaten a whole loaf of raw cinnamon bread dough. His belly looked like he was pregnant, and his stomach was quite literally near to bursting.)

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~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~It's true. Money can't buy happiness. You have to turn it into books first. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

My ex-MIL was actually a decent cook but gravy was not her forte. One evening she made a big bowl of gravy and as we sat down to eat a fly flew over it and dropped dead right in the bowl! Literally it was flying along, healthy and fine, and then just as it flew over the gravy it dropped dead. We laughed until we cried. She had a good sense of humor about it and laughed too. it was a running joke for years.

My Grandpa was not familiar with the inside of kitchen at all. Grandma did ALL the cooking.

Every Sunday the family had a roast dinner and one weekend she was sick in bed, but determined to have the roast dinner nevertheless. So she was organizing a roast dinner from her bed (by sending cooking instructions through the kids). When everything was ready, she came through to eat lunch, and found out she hadn't been specific enough in the instructions for making gravy. Grandpa had followed her every instruction, but she had forgotten to mention adding the gravy powder in, so the "gravy" was a white sauce, rather than an actual brown gravy. At no point in the making of the gravy did Grandpa question the unusual colour of it.

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It's best to love your family as you would a Siberian Tiger - from a distance, preferably separated by bars . -- Pearls Before Swine (16-May-2009)

I'm with White Dragon. Mandolins are evil. I have enough problems with a regular cheese grater.

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Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming "WOW!! What a ride!"

Yup, mandolins are truly carnivorous! I have the scar on my thumb to prove it...and i was even using the food grabber handle. My zucchini was a silly millimeter to wide for the mandolin, and it stuck. Using your thumb to try to work it through is a BAD IDEA.

The next time I was at the restaurant supply store and saw a kevlar glove for the kitchen, I bought it in a flash. Love it!

Had one of those OhNoSeconds when I was trying to open a tin can and I was using a really useless old tin opener. I could only get it to grip and cut into about three quarters of the lid edge and ended up levering up the half removed lid with a butter knife. It wasn't quite enough to get the contents of the tin out, so I thought "I'll just push the lid back a little more with my finger". As I was putting my finger on the tin edge I clearly thought to myself "This is so stupid, I'm likely to cut myself on the sharp edge of the lid!".

Guess what I promptly did?

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It's best to love your family as you would a Siberian Tiger - from a distance, preferably separated by bars . -- Pearls Before Swine (16-May-2009)

I was scoring the inside of an acorn squash a while back. I was holding the squash in my hand, and drawing the knife across it, toward my thumb.

Just as I thought, "you know, this is probably a bad idea..." the knife slipped and went through my thumb. Fortunately, I hadn't been pressing very hard, and only needed a bandaid.

Mostly I've been lucky though, given that I tend to cut/peel toward myself, which used to freak my mom out. It doesn't feel right the other way though. I just figure that part of my being a lefty was learning a bunch of simple tasks backwards.

Another one on keys and in keeping with my earlier post ... I once locked myself in the house. Yes, in the house. Both the front and back doors had deadbolts that had to be locked with a key from both sides. I was in college, and I needed to get to class. I was sure they were in my purse, so I dumped it out. No keys. I wandered all over the house, looking in every possible nook and cranny. I checked the refrigerator, the bathroom, my closet, my shoes, the pockets of all my coats. No keys. I kept going back to my purse and checking it. No keys. Of course, I couldn't have locked the doors if I didn't have the keys, so they had to be in there somewhere.

I decided to climb out a window to get out of the house (I was panicked by that point), but I checked my purse one last time first. The keys fell right out on the couch. From that point on, I have sworn that there is a key ghost that follows me. It also must've been there the day I locked my hand in the car.

Another one on keys and in keeping with my earlier post ... I once locked myself in the house. Yes, in the house. Both the front and back doors had deadbolts that had to be locked with a key from both sides. I was in college, and I needed to get to class. I was sure they were in my purse, so I dumped it out. No keys. I wandered all over the house, looking in every possible nook and cranny. I checked the refrigerator, the bathroom, my closet, my shoes, the pockets of all my coats. No keys. I kept going back to my purse and checking it. No keys. Of course, I couldn't have locked the doors if I didn't have the keys, so they had to be in there somewhere.

I decided to climb out a window to get out of the house (I was panicked by that point), but I checked my purse one last time first. The keys fell right out on the couch. From that point on, I have sworn that there is a key ghost that follows me. It also must've been there the day I locked my hand in the car.

I once got locked in my apartment, but it wasn't a lack of keys. The doorknob simply refused to turn. It was STUCK. I called maintenance, and while waiting for them, got my screwdriver and started to remove the doorknob. Maintenance arrived and worked on it from his side, until we had a hole in the door. The deadbolt simply Would Not Move. (By this time I was laughing so hard that I could barely stand) So he said, "Stand back", and did the whole 'manly shoulder against the door' thing, and BROKE the door frame! I grabbed my purse and said, 'I have to get to work!' and headed off. The door was fixed when I got back. That is one of the funniest things that ever happened to me in an apartment.

Last night, I had the potential to have a very bad experience...luckily it turned out good. My kids gave me a rotisserie for christmas, and we decided to try it out. After cooking the pork tenderloin (which turned out fantastic!) I used the special tool to take it out of the rotisserie, but it still had the metal skewer running through it. Without thinking, I grabbed the skewer with my bare hands.

For some reason, the metal wasn't super hot. I am happy to say I wasn't burnt!

Another one on keys and in keeping with my earlier post ... I once locked myself in the house. Yes, in the house. Both the front and back doors had deadbolts that had to be locked with a key from both sides. I was in college, and I needed to get to class. I was sure they were in my purse, so I dumped it out. No keys. I wandered all over the house, looking in every possible nook and cranny. I checked the refrigerator, the bathroom, my closet, my shoes, the pockets of all my coats. No keys. I kept going back to my purse and checking it. No keys. Of course, I couldn't have locked the doors if I didn't have the keys, so they had to be in there somewhere.

I decided to climb out a window to get out of the house (I was panicked by that point), but I checked my purse one last time first. The keys fell right out on the couch. From that point on, I have sworn that there is a key ghost that follows me. It also must've been there the day I locked my hand in the car.

I once got locked in my apartment, but it wasn't a lack of keys. The doorknob simply refused to turn. It was STUCK. I called maintenance, and while waiting for them, got my screwdriver and started to remove the doorknob. Maintenance arrived and worked on it from his side, until we had a hole in the door. The deadbolt simply Would Not Move. (By this time I was laughing so hard that I could barely stand) So he said, "Stand back", and did the whole 'manly shoulder against the door' thing, and BROKE the door frame! I grabbed my purse and said, 'I have to get to work!' and headed off. The door was fixed when I got back. That is one of the funniest things that ever happened to me in an apartment.

The same thing happed to me! Except I own my condo, so there was no maintenance to call! I live on the 10th floor, so it wasn't like I could climb out a window. My boyfriend had gone out into the hallway to test the door because it had been acting weird, and then couldn't get bck in. He and neighbor tried everything, and finally ended up just smashing the door knob to pieces.

At one point I called a lock smith and he said, "Is this a lock-out?" I probably puzzled him when I said, "No it's a lock IN"!

We have one door that is getting stuck like that - I think it is related to settling after a year long drought..................but we do have three other doors into the house (front, side - which is the one that sticks, back, and master bedroom). But I'm starting to look at getting all new locks for the four doors because the side door has two locks - we don't have the key for the doorknob lock (it is the only door with two locks)............or possibly just replace the door knob with a lock that we have a key for so we can get back in (it is the easiest to get to from the driveway).

Another one on keys and in keeping with my earlier post ... I once locked myself in the house. Yes, in the house. Both the front and back doors had deadbolts that had to be locked with a key from both sides. I was in college, and I needed to get to class. I was sure they were in my purse, so I dumped it out. No keys. I wandered all over the house, looking in every possible nook and cranny. I checked the refrigerator, the bathroom, my closet, my shoes, the pockets of all my coats. No keys. I kept going back to my purse and checking it. No keys. Of course, I couldn't have locked the doors if I didn't have the keys, so they had to be in there somewhere.

I decided to climb out a window to get out of the house (I was panicked by that point), but I checked my purse one last time first. The keys fell right out on the couch. From that point on, I have sworn that there is a key ghost that follows me. It also must've been there the day I locked my hand in the car.

I believe that this is why many fire departments advise against this type of lock. They may seem to be extra-secure, but no one wants to be running around looking for keys when they need to exit the house very quickly.

My sister is coping a beating in this tread, but I am going to tell on her again... (I hope she doesn't ever find this site!)

When she was 8 months pregnant with my nephew she got locked in the bathroom while taking a shower.

Just to set the scene, my sister is 5'1 and had a 11.9 pound baby (HUGE kid) so her preggy belly was HUGE as well. She went to take a shower and as she finished realised that there was no towel. She called for her DH to bring her one. He told her to open the door, but it wasn't locked.... uh oh...

The door has locked closed and they could.not.get.it.open

She ended climbing up the sink, and pulling the louvers out of the teeny tiny bathroom window, 6 foot off the ground. Her DH went outside and caught her as she came though, butt naked, head first.